The American Civil War
by JonChronicles
Summary: War is always a painful thing.. Even more so when it's against your own blood. Alfred F. Jones is literally being ripped apart from the inside out, his heart being torn into pieces as the country is being ripped apart between North and South. How will the United Sates survive the rise and fall of the Confederacy? The loss of it's own? All there is to say is, God bless America...


Author's Note: Hello everyone! This is my first official story on FF.N so please don't judge too harshly, orz. Anyways if you haven't figured it out by the description or title I'll go on ahead and tell you, this story will be based around the time of the American Civil War. I'm currently taking a class on the Civil War in school so hopefully what I've learned pays off well and I can be as accurate with historical facts, events, and such as 100% possible. ^-^ Enjoy~

**_February 8, 1861_**

The sky appeared gray, every few minutes lighting up with a strike of lighting as the rain pounded onto D.C. while winds ripped through the streets filled with not one soul. The capital of the United States of America look as if it was a city of mourning and it was.. it really was.

Alfred stood in his room looking at himself in the large mirror next to his dresser. Bruises covered his body with a mixture of scars and fresh cuts along them. America watched as a thin line of blood made its way down the freshly cut wound that started at his rib cage and went around until it reached midways of his back.

_'__How did it come to this…? After everything they've been through this is the final chapter of it all. Why is God so cruel!?' _America screamed out of fury, his fist colliding into the mirror as a wave broken glass scattering over the floor. _'Samuel.. please come back to me.' _

**_Flashback: February 4, 1848_**

Alfred sighed tiredly, his eyes finally landing on the White House. He had finally made it home after being in Mexico for so long..

Finally inside, America was greeted by the usual servants; he simply smiled reassuring them he didn't need anything before making his way up to his office, his boss most likely waiting there for him to congratulate him on the victory.

"Boss before you say anything I-" Alfred froze at the sight of his boss sitting in a chair occupied with a small child sitting on Alfred's desk that looked as if his long hair was a perfect resemblance of France's and his blue eyes were more beautiful than the oceans.

"We need to talk," his boss said standing up and walking over towards the young nation and opening the door back up before turning towards the boy sitting on America's desk. "Go downstairs and tell one of the servants that you're hungry, they'll know what to do." Without complaint the boy managed to get off the desk and run downstairs, but not before stopping and giving Alfred an odd look before leaving. Closing the door his boss walked back over and took his previous seat, America following him and sitting at his desk.

"Who's the kid?" Alfred instantly asked as a shot silence settles between the two.

His boss looked up at him with a stern look, "I don't honestly know, he appeared here out of the blue a day before you arrived, dressed in these rags. Tossing those 'rags' on America his boss stood up as the young nation carefully looked over the clothing, obviously belonging to the natives. "Is this some kind of joke!?" Alfred stood, gripping the clothing within his fist.

"If it was a joke I wouldn't be here now would I?" His boss snapped back before opening the door to leave. "Listen, the kid is now your responsibility, it's obvious he's one of 'your kind', maybe one of our territories or something? I have to be in New York by sundown, I'll leave him to you."

Before America could even speak up his boss slammed the door closed leaving the young nation to his thoughts. The image of the boy flooded into his mind. _"He looks like me.." _The image suddenly disappeared as someone began knocking on the door; America came back to reality before looking up and saying 'come in'.

"Sir, I'm so sorry to disturb you but.."

**_Moments Later.._**

Alfred came downstairs with the servant following a short distance behind him and entered the dining room only to be completely shocked at the scene that took place. Two servants attempting to chase the boy as he ran around the table naked, carrying all the food he could hold and stuff into his mouth at the same time.

Alfred instantly cracks up, laughter overwhelming him. He starts laughing so hard he can barely breathe. The three servants stare at him as if he's completely lost it. After a while of holding his side he regained control over himself and wiped a tear from his eye before getting involved.

Swiftly he went underneath the table and watched as the little feet made their way across the floor, however once close enough America attacked, jumping out of his hiding place and catching the kid.

"ᏪᎾ!" the boy shouted as America pinned him against his own chest, the boy couldn't be very old from his small size, possibly around 4-5ish. Alfred chuckled as the child furiously tried to fight back. "ᏪᎾ! ᏪᎾ! ᏪᎾ!"

"Stop squirming brat!" Alfred said with a grin as he went back upstairs to his room, taking the boy with him. After a few moments the kid settled down a bit only squirming every so often. Sighing Alfred sat him down on his bed.

"What am I going to do with you?" he asked himself before standing up and walking over towards a dresser and pulling out and undershirt. "This'll do.. for now at least," he mumbled to himself before putting it on the boy only to get a glare in response. Alfred chuckled to himself, "Mind giving me your name wild one? I'm Alfred."

Nothing, the boy just stared at Alfred as if he had two heads. Frowning America bent down so he could be at eye level with the kid and place a hand on his shoulder, "ᎬᎵᎡᎵᎦ."

The kid stared at him in a somewhat shock state that Alfred replied in his native tongue before mumbling, "ᎨᏍᏗ ᏱᏥᎦᏔ".

Alfred smiled at him and ruffled his hair, glad to finally get a response. "We'll change that then." He sat down, scanning for a name that he liked; Alfred never got to name someone before.. Perhaps this is how _he_ and France felt when picking names for him and Mathew. Suddenly the boy made his way closer to Alfred on the bed and grabbed ahold of his shirt mumbling in somewhat broken English, "C-can I be.. S-Sa-mel?"

Smiling America ruffled his hair again, "I think Samuel is a perfect name."

_ Samuel F. Jones…._

**-End-**`

Cherokee:

· ᏪᎾ! (Wena!) meaning.. "Go away!"

· ᎬᎵᎡᎵᎦ (Gvlieliga) meaning.. "Reply"

· ᎨᏍᏗ ᏱᏥᎦᏔ (Gesdi yitsigata) meaning.. "I don't know"

Author's Note: Tada! The end of Chapter 1, short, sweet and simple~ thanks you all for reading! I'll be looking forward to responses about Chapter 1, I love having others input. c: Anyways, bye! I'll see you in the next chapter.

PS: I plan on updating every Friday or Wednesday. Bye~


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